


Learner Plates

by ChocolatePecan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Daddy Issues, Gen, HurtNoctWeek, Learning to Drive, starting to let go, the moment you realise your father is dying, trying to grow up but you won't let me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 19:40:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13841652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolatePecan/pseuds/ChocolatePecan
Summary: You should never let a family member teach you how to drive, people say. Noct knows that but he still wants his dad to teach him.They share a single lesson, and it doesn't go well.





	Learner Plates

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Day One of Hurt Noct Week 2018.
> 
> The prompt for this was 'daddy issues', suggested by the fabulous @hurt-noct-week peeps over on Tumblr!

Noct always prefers somebody else to drive the Regalia. Ignis is a smooth, careful driver, the kind who can palm the steering wheel like a pro and manage the weight transfer caused by his own movement and Prompto’s bouncing around with machine-like precision. It makes Noct feel cushioned and safe, and while he’s not afraid to take the wheel he’s nowhere near as accomplished as Ignis is. Not that he’d admit it to his face.

The wind tousles his hair as he and his three brothers ride, and the warmth of late afternoon makes him sleepy. With his hand on his cheek, and as his attention wanes, he blinks lazily. He can just see into the shotgun area from here, where Prompto’s knees are as energetic as always, camera ready on his thigh.

His gaze slides to the glove compartment. At the bottom of it, just as it curves to make space for the footwell, is a deep scratch. He sits up, surprised it’s never caught Cindy’s attention. Her work is usually so thorough. He’d just assumed his dad had arranged for it to be fixed back in Insomnia. Making everything look normal had been a speciality of his.

Dad had driven like Ignis does. He’d rarely driven for himself, but when he did he drove as though he had precious cargo. Noct’d had his pick of willing driving instructors, but he’d wanted his dad to teach him, against all sensible advice.

Gladio had told him he and Clarus had almost come to blows when he tried to get him test ready. Ignis had been sage and acquired a senior instructor, taking lessons far beyond what was necessary in order to pass the test. Prompto hadn’t been forthcoming about his experience, but Noct was certain he’d learned on the backroads of Insomnia with a shady guy he’d paid ten Crowns an hour so he’d pretend to be his supervising driver.

 

Noct had taken his first and only lesson with his father in the forecourt of the Citadel, a place considered safe for both Noct and for the general population as he progressed through the early stages of learning. On first climbing into the Regalia’s driving seat, Noct had listened carefully to his father.

_Close the door with your right hand. Check the seat is comfortable, and that you can reach the pedals. You should have a full and complete view of the road ahead. Adjust your mirrors. Start the engine when you’re ready. Mirror, signal, mirror, manoeuvre._

“It’s harder to drive with a manual gearbox,” Dad had said. “You should learn in both manual and automatic transmissions.”

“Why? Automatic is fine.”

“You cannot cut corners, Noctis. You are a leader. You must set an example with your behaviour.”

“When don’t I?” Noct had started the engine. Slick as ever, the Regalia had eased from dormant to alive, and without further prompting he’d had shifted her gear selector to ‘Drive’. Nudging the accelerator, she’d let him coax her forward at no more than four miles an hour.

“Sometimes the example you set is not the best,” Dad had said. Noct had watched him move uncomfortably in the passenger seat, his hip clicking as he did so.

Noct eased the Regalia around the roundabout outside the Citadel’s grand towers.

“You’re one to talk,” he said, as his father grabbed the wheel to straighten the turn before he rode up the centre of the roundabout. “Honesty, integrity, loyalty. All great traits for a king, right?”

“What do you mean?” Dad had asked, and Noct had noticed his hand move towards the gear selector as he spoke.

“You can take the training wheels off, Dad.”

“Keep your eyes on the road,” was all Dad had offered in response.

It seemed odd to be in the driver’s seat for once, the roundel of the steering wheel an interference in Noct’s vision, the awkward position of the pedals at his feet an unwelcome intrusion in his safe space.

“My eyes are wide open.” He’d turned the Regalia again, starting to find the constant slow turn around the roundabout boring. He indicated to exit and accelerated, driving the car out onto the road leading back into the city. He intended to get far from the coddled zone of the Citadel.

“Noctis, where are you going?” Dad had reached for the dashboard desk, hand tremulous as he clutched at its black marquetry. Noct had seen the Ring of the Lucii clearly then, the dark band of it gripping tightly to his father’s wizened fingers.

“You want me to lead the people. You want me to set a good example. For that, I need to see honesty in my role models.” Noct’s emergency break had been perfect. The car was too well-designed to screech to a halt, but her smoothness had fallen away like a nutshell as she’d come to a stop just before the exit to the city.

Noct had turned to face his father then. “You think I don’t see it?”

He’d been seeing it for months. Every time he came to the Citadel from his apartment his father looked like a different man. There were additional lines on his face, or his hair had a new streak of grey. One day, the curve of his back had dropped him an inch in stature between that and the previous visit. The knowing was in the weak turn of his father’s belly, and the way his skin had started to sag on his shoulders.

In the light of the sun boring down on the Regalia’s windshield, Noct had been able to see that even the green of his father’s eyes had become a washed-out grey.

“Give me the grace of admitting it,” Noct had said. “Man to man. Tell me-” and he’d paused, his throat working but his brain sending the message to abort. _Tell me how many days more there will be like this one. Tell me how many more times you’ll make me feel safe. Tell me how I will ever be half the man you are._

“I will arrange another instructor for you.” Regis’ lips had thinned. “Give me the keys.” He’d held out his hand for them, the damned ring curling there as though a death mark.

Noct had turned off the engine, yanked out the keys, and thrown them hard at the dashboard desk above his father’s knees. He hadn’t looked back once at his father’s calls, striding away as fast as he could. With every step a little piece of himself flaked away and locked itself up in self-protection, knowing that one day soon his father would be another faceless, soulless dead king on Insomnia’s walls.

 

The glare of evenfall calls Noct back to reality. He squints into the orange sun, then faces the familiar spikes of Ignis’ hair in the driver’s seat.

Gladio nudges him with his knee. Noct turns to him, unsure how many times he’s tried to get his attention.

“Hey,” Gladio says. “You look peaky. You all right?”

“Me? Yeah.” Noct smiles a little, then a little more to put Gladio off the scent.

He looks again at the scratch on the glove box near Prompto’s knees. The keys had dug deep.

The brickwork tunnel indicating their arrival in Lestallum reaches for them like protective arms. As it does, Noct sets his gaze on the red-brown stones speeding by. If he sheds a tear here, facing the wall, nobody will know.


End file.
